


extinguish these fond loves with minds labour;

by esquitor



Series: don't let it fester (let it grow); [2]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Angst, Everyone Is An Adult, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Multi, No Sexual Content, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Open Relationships, Queerplatonic Relationships, copious amounts of cuddling, despite not really wanting to and it not actually being in the job description, reborn learns how to be a parent, repeatedly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-13 23:31:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7990252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esquitor/pseuds/esquitor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>tiger parents are a bit funny to think about. less fun to deal with.</p><p>reborn learns what it means to be one, and tries to be anything else.</p><p>(part of the <i>nip thy affections</i> universe, where reborn is stuck in an arcobaleno-powered groundhog day situation that leaves him repeating the same thing over and over again: dealing with sawada tsunayoshi. except sometimes he's in a different world, a different timeline, and after a while he figures they don't all have to end up the same way.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	extinguish these fond loves with minds labour;

**Author's Note:**

> not required to read the original piece (but please do it's pretty gr8 if i do say so myself ohohoho). just a few notes so you don't get too lost.
> 
> \- reborn is basically world-hopping, waking up on a train/boat/plane to namimori again every time he or tsuna dies.  
> \- the 'neo primo' world is his original world. it is not the canon timeline. none of them are the canon timeline.  
> \- in the present 'world', the one at the very end of the fic, tsuna is a 30yo blind stay-at-home gardener looking to overthrow the mafia. he hangs out with weird people. like xanxus. and mukuro.

"Millefiore is at our doorstep! I don't care _what_ the council thinks, I'll not put up with this invasion of our territory!"

"Tsuna, please, we all understand where you're coming from but we can't just march against them in our current state!"

"And why not? What other choices do we have? Do we just _sit and wait_ for them to find us, wait for them to _hunt us down_? We are not _sheep_ , Hayato, we are not _lambs for slaughter_ , I am _not having any more of our people dying out there without retribution!_ "

"Tsuna!" Hayato grabs the other man's shoulders and grips tight enough to keep him still. "I'm sorry to say this but Tsuna listen to yourself, just— _listen_!"

Tsunayoshi finally quiets down, but his eyes are wide and wild and his breathing is labored, panting and gasping through something more than anger. Something that Hayato acknowledges but does not recognize for what it is.

"Listen, Tsuna. _Please_. You're acting too rashly about this. I- _we_ , we all understand what you're feeling right now, _we've all lost someone in this war_ , but that's _exactly_ why you have to calm down. If anyone else saw you this hysterical, I don't— I couldn't even begin to imagine the fallout, I—..."

Hayato's face is twisted into regret and apology. He holds on for another few moments, then lets go of Tsunayoshi's shoulders, raking one hand through his hair and then clenches both into fists at his sides.

"This isn't like one of Reborn's tests," Hayato says. Grits out. His eyes, hazel green and sharp and weary, dart over to where Reborn sits on Neo Primo's desk. "It's not a drill. Please, Tsuna— _Neo Primo_. Just.. calm down a little."

"Calm down," Tsunayoshi repeats, breathless and incredulous. "Calm _down_ — fuck, Hayato, that's— that doesn't _help_ —"

"I know! I know, I'm— I'm goddamned hopeless with stuff like that, but—" Hayato scrubs a hand over his face. "I mean it. I.. I'm not just saying this for your appearances or for morale, Tsuna. You can't- we can't have you blowing up like that during a meeting again. It's- it's _great_ that they all finally understand your greatness and stop looking down on you, Tsuna, but if it happens too many times, they'll write you off. This is how the mafia works. If they don't like your leadership—"

He makes a slicing motion across his neck and Tsunayoshi nods, shaky, but understanding.

"And.. it won't just be you, Tsuna. It'll be all of us, all your guardians, anyone who supports you and your decisions. Obviously I would never serve anyone who laid a hand on you so- I just want you to know, Tsuna, I'd go to the ends of the world for you. Hell, I'd go to the ends of the world _with you_ , I'll stand by whatever you decide no matter what, I—"

"Tsunayoshi," Reborn chirps, light and weighted. "I'd like to have word with you."

Neo Primo looks over at him, wavering.

"Alone. If you would, Gokudera."

"I... yes, of course, Reborn." Hayato straightens out his own clothing and makes a hasty departure, a storm of conflicting emotions on his face.

"What, Reborn," Tsunayoshi croaks out, dropping into a chair that is nowhere near his office seat. "Is it your turn to yell at me? Tell me things I already know, advise me to do things I've already considered?"

He hops onto Tsunayoshi's shoulder, a comfort they no longer share except in private. Neo Primo is no longer a child, after all.

"Gokudera is right, though," Reborn says. "I've let you overreact during training and practice drills, but you can't do that at an actual meeting. That's why you've been learning to control that temper and those impulses of yours."

"It's a little _late_ for that, Reborn. I don't have _time_ for stuff like that. Didn't you hear? _Millefiore is coming after us_."

"I know they are, Tsunayoshi. _Everyone_ knows. Stop panicking and overreacting so much, it's not the end of the world."

" _I'm not overreacting!_ "

It was funny at first, back when Tsuna was still 15 and in school and screeching over every decision he had to make. It was something Reborn had gotten accustomed to. It humored him, and after Checkerface gathered them all up in a dream and told them they wouldn't have to worry about the Curse killing them any time soon, he figured he should have his share of fun before shit hit the fan. Because of course it would.

Now it's a little concerning. _More_ than a little concerning.

"You are."

"No," Tsunayoshi seethes. "No, you don't get to tell me that, not after all these years. I seem to be the only one taking this problem _seriously_ and I'm reacting _just fine_ , considering what's happening here!"

Tsunayoshi stands up just as quickly as he'd sat down and paces, violently. Reborn hops back down onto the desk and remarks idly that it's very much worrying to see Neo Primo this agitated when he's usually so calm and reassuring. When he's usually so perfect. The perfect boss.

"You're not my mentor anymore, Reborn. I don't care if you're the World's Greatest Hitman, you're not my inside _or_ outside advisor, you can't—"

"Can't what? Can't talk to you like this, like I always have?" Reborn lets out a _hmph_ , though it's high and whiny in his little body. "You're several centuries too early to be telling me what to do, Tsunayoshi."

Tsunayoshi _hisses_. " _I am **Neo Vongola Primo**_ in case you haven't noticed, Reborn. _The perfect mafia boss_. That's what _you've_ been training me to be all these years."

"Then why aren't you?" Reborn says before he can stop himself. "Why aren't you perfect? You lost your composure in there, in _the most important_ meeting Vongola has probably ever had since the Cradle affair—"

" _Don't talk to me about the Cradle affair_ ," Neo Primo says, hushed and raspy and livid. It shows on his face, all the hurt and anger and pain. All the regret. "And don't just _ask me_ why I'm not fucking _perfect_."

"Why not?" Reborn shoots back, blunt and irate as he always is when Tsunayoshi is anything but a mafia boss. "It's a valid question. I am, and I taught you to be the same. So why aren't you?"

"I'm _not!_ I'm just- I'm _not_ , Reborn! I thought we'd cleared this up already in the 40 years we've known each other, _I'm not you!_ "

Has it really been 40 years? Jesus. Reborn must be, like, at least 80 years old now. He's so old. The Arcobaleno are so, so old.

He wonders if the others feel the same way. Tiny, angry, and ancient.

Tsunayoshi has slumped down into the chair again, head bowed into his hands, fingers tangled in his hair. He's gotten good at straightening it out and looking presentable when needed, but it's still a bird's nest when not under some public scrutiny. Makes him look younger than he actually is.

"..I don't know what to do, Reborn." He sounds lost. Neo Vongola Primo he is and claims to be, and he sounds so _lost_. "I just don't know anymore."

_He's supposed to be perfect. He was meant to be perfect._

And wasn't he? Isn't he? Isn't this as close to perfection as they would ever get?

"Neo Primo," Reborn says.

The man looks up at him. Lost, like a boy. Like a child.

"Tsunayoshi... I—"

/ / / / / / / / /

"—roud of you."

".. _Huh?_ "

"What?" Reborn looks up. Tsunayoshi stares back at him, hunched over his math homework with wide eyes.

"What.. um. What brought this on?"

"What? I can't be proud of my own student?"

"Dino-san says you're never proud of your students," Tsunayoshi says warily.

"Well, I am now."

" _Why?_ I haven't even done anything yet."

Reborn holds up a science test with a red 25 marked on it.

Tsunayoshi grimaces. "What, that? I failed that."

"You did 15 points better than you usually do."

"..Yeah but it's still _failing_."

"You're 14 years old. You are going to fail. And you will get better." Reborn emphasizes each statement by fwapping the boy on the head with the sheaf of test results from last week. "You _are_ doing better, so I'm proud of you for that."

"Okay, that's getting kind of weird now can you stop saying that?"

Reborn narrows his eyes. Why is his job always so hard? He is trying to do the boy some good in this Cycle here. "Tsunayoshi, I am—"

Tsunayoshi claps both hands over his ears and falls back onto the ground, rolling around and going _LALALALA_ to drown out whatever Reborn was going to say.

"How are we ever going to make a mafia boss out of you," Reborn drones once the off-key singing stops.

"Oh my god, can't we stop with that too?"

"No can do, boy-o."

" _Uughhhh_ , but I don't want to be a mafia boss!""

/ / / / / / / / /

"Why not?"

"I'm- sorry?" Tsunayoshi blinks. "What do you mean _why not_?"

"I mean exactly that." Reborn leans back, tipping his hat down. "Some people would leap for the chance to be the boss of a crime family. Instant wealth and recognition and power."

"Every time you say that, all I hear is _instant expectations and responsibilities_." The boy rolls his eyes. "I'm _14_ , Reborn. I don't want to run a crime syndicate. Ask Hibari to do it."

"I did."

"..What did he say?"

"He won't crowd with those sorts of people."

"Ugh, Hibari never wants to do anything."

Reborn shoots a very flat deadpan look at Tsunayoshi.

"Hey, I have _very logical reasons_ for not wanting to be a mafia boss! I'm just a kid, I'm tiny, I'm super weak, my grades are below average—" hey, Reborn is proud of him for those grades, "—I've got no charisma or leadership, I only have a spine when it comes to refusing people—"

"No you don't."

"—See! According to you, I can't even say no to anyone! What kind of mafia boss is that, huh?"

"You're a very pessimistic sort of kid, have you noticed?"

"Only for the past decade of my life!" Tsunayoshi drops to the ground and starts rolling around in a fashion that leaves Reborn reeling for nostalgia. "I'm not mafia boss material, I never will be! I am a civilian, I don't want to be anything more than a civilian!"

Reborn reaches over and yanks him up by the arms. Tsunayoshi is such a _child_.

"Okay, let's forget the _why would you make a bad mafia boss_ and focus on _why don't you **want** to be a mafia boss?_ " Tsunayoshi drops the pout and just sort of.. stares at him. Owlishly. "I don't care if you think you're not suited for it, or if anyone else says you'd make a terrible leader- do you _want_ to do it?"

Tsunayoshi looks away. Bunches up his shoulders like he's trying to make himself smaller, unnoticeable and easily dismissed.

"...No. I don't," he says, for the umpteenth time in the 5 months Reborn has been at this household. "I don't.. want to be a mafia boss."

"Why don't you want to be a mafia boss?"

"Does it _matter_ why?" Tsunayoshi bristles, going from meek and defeated to defensive and hissy. Like a cat. An adorably surly oversized cat. "I don't need to explain _why_ I don't want to do something."

"You'd make a perfect mafia boss. Wait, no—" Reborn purses his lips and sits back, holding a finger up to keep Tsunayoshi from saying anything right away. "No, you wouldn't. You'd be _a good fit_ for it. You would do a good job as a mafia boss. Ah-ah-ah— don't say anything about how you think you'd be awful at it. You're not mafia, remember? _I_ am. I know what the mafia is about, so trust me when I say you wouldn't be as awful as you think."

"That's a dumb lie," the boy grumbles, trembling. Quiet. "You don't really mean that."

"Of course I mean it, Tsunayoshi."

"You just admitted I wouldn't make a perfect mafia boss."

"I did," Reborn says, with the weight of a dozen lives on his tongue, "because there's no such thing as a perfect person. You don't have to be perfect."

Tsunayoshi stares back at him, as though to ask _why not_ , because doesn't everyone want to be perfect and flawless? Doesn't everyone want not to be a failure?

"You just have to be _you_."

/ / / / / / / / /

"..Reborn, is that you?"

"Mm?" He snuffles quietly and tries to bury his face deeper into whatever warmth is pressed against his cheek. Blood thrums in his ears and a steady pulse beats under it, one that isn't his own.

Someone's hand cards through his hair and down the side of his face, fingers looping around his sideburn and tugging on it gently.

"Ah. Definitely Reborn."

"Told you it was," comes a gruff voice from beyond whatever alluring heat Reborn has in his arms.

Reborn blinks, bleary and tired. A broad-shouldered form blocks his view of the bottom corner of the calendar hanging from the wall of Tsunayoshi's bedroom.

"Well excuse me for wanting to make sure, Xanxus. You didn't exactly turn over to check."

"We went to bed completely sober, Sawada."

"You had two glasses of wine."

"Yeah. Sober."

Reborn mumbles something and feels the skin under his cheek rumble in response, and the tell-tale sound of Tsunayoshi giggling.

"Can you two please shut up," a third voice grouses against Reborn's shoulder blades, low and somewhat definitively masculine. Probably. There's not enough shifting contact for him to feel if those are curves and soft flesh or hard packed muscles. Or neither.

Or both.

"Kufufu, is that the wrong side of the bed for you, dear Chrome?"

One of the arms around Reborn's waist shifts, and he never thought he'd ever hear the likes of Xanxus uttering a _yelp_ like that. The broad shoulders in front of him jerk and the bed shudders as Xanxus jumps in place, twisting around until he's able to sit up. Mukuro is hanging off his shoulder, grinning like a sated feline and stretching out the collar of Xanxus' sleep-shirt.

"You _missed_ , Chrome," the assassin (?) snarls, though not unfondly.

"I did not," is all that the pliant form against his back says before Chrome heaves herself (himself?) up and lunges across both his and Tsunayoshi's bodies.

Xanxus somehow manages to scoot all three of them over to where Chrome was laying before, one heavy arm draped over both of their sides and resting just above the waistband of Reborn's pajama pants. The Mist duo tussles on the other side, one of them giggling and laughing and screeching something about tickling and fingers in sides. Tsunayoshi chuckles along with them, hand curling over the back of Reborn's neck and scratching over the short hairs at the nape.

Reborn lets out an indulgent sighing groan and presses in closer. Xanxus laughs shortly into Tsunayoshi's hair, patting Reborn's side with his own hand.

After another few minutes, Chrome and Mukuro both quiet down to wheezing gasps and giggles. Judging by muffled sound Xanxus makes into Tsunayoshi's hair, they've probably decided to plaster themselves up against his back, one thin arm somehow snaking up and halfway around Xanxus' waist.

"Is Squalo still here?"

"No. Switched out with Mukuro a few hours ago."

"Oh. Too bad." Tsunayoshi yawns, and the tendon of his throat flexes under Reborn's lips. "He's not going to yell at us to wake up and get out of bed, is he?"

Xanxus grunts again. "Let him fucking try and see what happens."

That probably means 'no'.

Good.

This bed really _is_ perfectly made for 5 people.


End file.
